My Life With the Walter Boys

“How?”

 

 

“For starters, I don’t have to interact with them,” he told me. “But also, there’s something about playing a character, slipping into a different skin, that gives me this rush of confidence. It’s like I know that the crowd can’t judge who I am because I’m just performing. The person I’m pretending to be isn’t really me.”

 

“That makes sense,” I said, “but why do you care what people think?” He made it sound like everyone would hate him if they got to know the real him.

 

Danny raised an eyebrow. “What about you?”

 

“Me?” I asked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Yes, I liked to make sure I looked presentable and I was a little uptight about my grades, but those were both key ingredients in becoming a successful person. It wasn’t like I avoided talking to people.

 

For a moment, Danny held my gaze, staring at me as if he was trying to figure something out. “Nothing,” he finally said and looked away. He pushed the auditorium door open a crack, and a beam of light poured into the dark room like molten gold. “Anyway, thanks for helping me out today. It was super cool, but I should probably get to class.”

 

“Right,” I said, confused. Why was he suddenly clamping down?

 

“See you at home,” Danny said. He slipped out into the hall, the door swinging shut behind him, and then I was alone.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 10

 

 

It was Saturday morning, and I was finally starting to feel the effects of my punishment.

 

“What do you mean I can’t go?” Cole shouted.

 

Nathan and I had just gotten back from our morning run and were stretching out on the front lawn. A moment ago, Cole came storming out of the house to find his dad loading the truck with supplies: tents, sleeping bags, a box filled with pots and pans made for cooking over a fire, and other outdoorsy things.

 

“I didn’t say you couldn’t come,” George replied, looking up from his work.

 

Danny and Isaac, who were busy strapping a canoe to the top of Katherine’s van, glanced at Cole and snickered.

 

“Dad, I can’t miss the camping trip,” Cole said, his tone unyielding. “We always go—as a family.”

 

If he thought playing the sentimental card would work, Cole was mistaken.

 

George snorted. “Cole, if you want to come, then come. I’m giving you a choice, so I don’t see what the problem is.”

 

The problem was that Cole didn’t like either choice.

 

When I got home from school Friday afternoon, I found out that Alex hadn’t ditched me at lunch. He went home sick with some kind of stomach flu, although he still wasn’t talking to me. The Walters were going on their annual camping trip, but since Alex was ill, Katherine wanted someone to stay home with him. If we chose not to go on the camping trip and took care of Alex, we would be released from our grounding after the weekend. On the other hand, if we decided to go on the trip, our grounding would stay the same—two more weeks of solitude.

 

For me, the choice was easy. I hated the outdoors and the thought of sleeping outside with bugs and the cold made me cringe. Staying home was a win-win. Cole, however, was pissed. His and Danny’s birthday was in two weeks and he wasn’t willing to give up his social life, family camping trip or not.

 

“This blows,” he complained as we watched his family back out of the driveway, both cars packed full.

 

“Sorry,” I said.

 

“No, you’re not,” he snapped, looking away from the window. “You didn’t even want to go.”

 

I knew he was only taking his frustration out on me, but it still made me flinch. “It’s not like this is my fault.”

 

“Maybe if you hadn’t been so drunk…” he whispered under his breath.

 

“Don’t you dare blame this on me,” I hissed. “You were planning on skipping school whether or not I came.”

 

“Whatever,” he said, storming out of the room. When I heard the front door bang, I knew he was heading out to work on his car. For the rest of the day, we all avoided each other. Alex stayed in his room playing GoG, while Cole stayed shut up in the garage. I tried to work on some homework, but I couldn’t concentrate. Instead, I camped out on the couch watching reruns of a soap opera that my mom had been addicted to. I tried to find Danny’s crime show, but it must have only been on at night.

 

Later, Cole came in to make himself dinner. After his frozen pizza was done cooking, he plopped down on the cushion next to me.

 

“Sorry I blamed you before,” he said. “I was pissed at my dad.” Then he shoved half a slice of pizza into his mouth. A few hours of cranking on his car must have cleared his mind. That didn’t mean I wanted to forgive him, though. Cole had a bad habit of taking his anger out on me, and I didn’t like it. I stayed silent. He finished chewing and set down his plate with a sigh. “I was a jerk, Jackie. What else do you want me to say?”